The Dragon's Cult

Morrigan's trail bring you back to Haven, the Inquisition's former base, destroyed by the Magister Corypheus. You are able to find something thanks to Tamar, a former member of the Disciples of Andraste cult, an heretic branch of the Chantry, currently working for the Inquisition. She is a fearsome warrior who developed her abilities by consuming dragon blood. One of the Disciples of Andraste living in Haven, she fled into the mountains after the Temple of Sacred Ashes was discovered by the Hero of Ferelden and the Chantry sent soldiers to reclaim it. She spent years in the mountains fighting against members of the Chantry until she was finally captured and imprisoned in the cellars of Haven's chantry.

After the Divine Conclave was destroyed and the Inquisition reformed, Commander Cullen offered her a choice: serve the Inquisition or die in prison. Tamar accepted the offer, eager to return to the heat of battle. She has refused to give up her beliefs, though she is now loyal to the Inquisition.

She is also a beautiful, with dusky skin and blue eyes, and eager slut for you, like the other women you brought with you: Cassandra, Vivienne and Sera.

Tamar guides you to the village's ruins, her dusky skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat as she navigates the rubble-strewn streets. The air is heavy with the acrid smell of smoke and ash, the remnants of the Magister's destruction still lingering in the air. You follow closely behind her, your eyes roving over the devastation as you try to make sense of the layout.

As you walk, the silence between you and Tamar is palpable, the only sound the crunch of gravel and debris beneath your feet.

As you follow Tamar through the ruins of Haven, the silence between you is broken only by the sound of debris crunching beneath your feet. You can't help but notice the way Tamar's dusky skin glistens with sweat, her blue eyes fixed intently on the path ahead. Her leather armor is worn and battered, a testament to her skills as a warrior.

You find yourself drawn to her, your eyes roving over her curves as she navigates the rubble-strewn streets. You can't help but wonder what she would look like, stripped of her armor and kneeling before you. The thought sends a thrill through you, and you feel your cock stirring in response.

As you walk through the ruins of Haven, Tamar suddenly stops in her tracks, her blue eyes fixed intently on something ahead. You follow her gaze, and your eyes widen in surprise as you see a group of cultists emerging from the rubble, their faces twisted with fanatical fervor. At their center stands Kolgrim, his eyes blazing with an unholy intensity.

Tamar's voice is barely above a whisper. "Impossible. They were supposed to be dead."

Kolgrim's gaze locks onto you, and a twisted smile spreads across his face. "The Herald of Andraste," he spits. "How convenient. We've been waiting for you."

Kolgrim steps forward, the ruins of Haven casting long shadows across his twisted face. His grin is wide and unsettling, like a crack in a dam ready to burst. "Herald of Andraste," he begins, his voice dripping with the fervor of a man who's seen too much and believed too deeply. "We both know you're not here to save the world. You're here for power, and I can offer you something no one else can." He pauses, his eyes glinting with the madness of a prophet.

Kolgrim's grin widened as he gestured to a figure bound and gagged behind him. Morrigan struggled against her restraints, her golden collar glinting in the dim light of the ruins. Her pelted top was torn, revealing more of her pale skin, and her usual defiance was evident even in her captive state. "You see, Herald," Kolgrim continued, his voice dripping with madness, "we've taken the liberty of securing your precious witch. And with her... offspring." He emphasized the last word, his eyes gleaming with fanatic fervor. "The child carries the soul of the last Archdemon, a power beyond your wildest imagination. With this power, you could become more than just a man—you could become a god, a dragon of legend, unstoppable and eternal."

The Inquisitor's gut quivered with a dark chuckle as he stepped forward, his piggish eyes glinting with predatory interest at Kolgrim's words. "A dragon god?" he sneered, scratching his greasy beard. "Bit on the nose for a madman, aren't you? But I'll admit..." His gaze drifted to Morrigan's heaving chest, the torn pelt barely containing her breasts. The golden collar pulsed faintly as recognition flashed in her furious amber eyes. With a lazy flick of his wrist, the Well's power slithered through her veins like ice. Morrigan's muffled scream became a choked gasp as her body arched against the cultists' grip, the gem on her collar flaring azure.

"You want godhood?" The Inquisitor's tongue flicked across his chapped lips, gaze lingering on Morrigan's trembling thighs. "Cut the mysticism. What's the ritual? Blood? Sex? Do I need to fuck the dragon or just drink its piss?"

Kolgrim's chuckle rattled like bones in a crypt. "The Blood of Andraste Reborn must flow into one who bears the Well's curse. The Holy blood will awaken with the Well's power."

You ponder about his deal.